


Walking in the Air

by BurnWithinTheseFlames



Category: Inuyasha - Fandom, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Somewhat non canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2013-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-21 21:14:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/905022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurnWithinTheseFlames/pseuds/BurnWithinTheseFlames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I too," to Frodo it seemed that the entirety of Elrond's court held their breathe as the speaker threw back the cloak's head to reveal the startling features of a woman, "offer my aid to destroying the One Ring." LOTR x Inuyasha. Rating to change. Very unusual. This is NOT your typical Lord of the Rings crossover. Not by a long shot. RATING WILL CHANGE. Both book & movie verse</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

For the record, I use a variety of the different Tolkien series elfish. Some phrases work better than others so I decided not to stick strictly with Sindarin or Eldarin/Quenya or the other "dialects" for those that may have "elf" knowledge.

_-.-_

_thoughts_

_***** mental conversations *****_

**_amplified thoughts/meanings_ **

_****Different language / not "human"**** _

* * *

*You fool, you wanderer You challenged the gods and lost*

-.-

**TA 2933 - Middle Earth**

She sighed softly, her breathe escaping in a plume of ashen air in the night's surrounding cold, as azure eyes considered the dimly burning lights of a sleeping city. City? No, even as she thought it, she knew that this wasn't quite the right word but it was close enough within the depths of her tired mind. The lights promised sanctuary and there was nothing else she would rather do than curl up and sleep through the upcoming winter. But she was exhausted. Five nights and five days she traveled with the rest in between nothing more than to relieve herself or scavenge foodstuffs.

Beneath her, recognizing the scent of the forest or maybe the smell of fresh hay from the stables, Rosroch [Red Horse] shifted impatiently. The mare was fleet of foot and smaller than animals that others usually used but underneath the light burgundy fur the animal was composed entirely of wiry muscle and very little fat. She could run like the devil himself was on her tail if given the command and do so for many hours. Some absent part of her mind registered that the elaborate braids within the thick black mane had come undone, allowing the silky soft hair to brush against her hands as she held the reins lightly.

 _Easy my darling,_ a gloved hand settled on the sloping arch of the neck, _soon we will both be sleeping as if dead._

A soft crunching sound, it would have been inaudible if not for the night's shadowy quiet, caught her attention. No it caught the battle bred mare's attention and she followed the pricked ears. Azure eyes shifted underneath hair the color of a raven's wing for it wasn't pure black, the thick ebony strands tainted with a bluish undertone that glinted softly in the moonlight, as they searched the forest. She had the sight of a human being but instinct told her that no longer was she alone. There were eyes in the forest watching and those curious gazes belonged to no mere animal.

"Vedui' maethor Q Rivendell [Greetings warriors of Rivendell]," there was no hesitation in her words though this was by no means her native tongue.

If anything the forest's silence seemed to deepen, grow ever thicker, as if she had spoken some grave insult or even a threat rather than a greeting. Anyone who knew no better would have turned tail and run at the daunting sensation that filled the air. With good reason. Though this place was considered far and wide to be a Sanctuary, the protection of said sanctuary was the upmost importance to those that had the ability to defend it. Anyone with ill intentions would find themselves facing a rather rude welcome. If not death.

The snort of another horse behind where she waited atop of her mare seemed to break the silence. Briefly she was aware of someone's soft crying before he was hushed by the older human. It was the boy. He was but a brat, barely knee high, and gangly with new life so awkward that he looked like a newborn Coo [dog]. It reminded her of when she had awoken here, even if _**many**_ years had passed since then. But time did nothing to diminish her naturally caring nature and she resisted the urge to turn. She was responsible for them. They were her charges. At least until she delivered them here. But they were safer here than anywhere else now.

"Le nathlam hí [We welcome you here]," the voice was light, lifting, as if the speaker was moments from laughing. She did not know who exactly spoke for at times distinguishing speakers was harder than one would believe but it did not matter.

A moment she got her answer as to whom had spoken.

"Im gelir ceni ad lín, híril nín [I am happy to see you again, my lady]." The voice, though it was really nothing more than a mummer of sound as if the speaker was worried of waking sleeping minds, still caused her to tense.

Shifting upon the bay-tinged mare's back her azure, a deep sapphire blue, eyes immediately focused upon the one had materialized out of the gloom with but naught a sound. Scary man.

She had missed him, truth be told, more than she was willing to admit. She was more far-flung, less willing to stay around the domain of the safe and protected haven of Rivendell for her alliances lay as much with the elves who had fostered her in her elongated life. Her age, and her beauty, was something that many whispered about but she would not lie. She belonged to the race of Man and like her far more mortal brethren the urge to move, to venture about, to do battle even and learn new things was something that she had never been capable of keeping under control. She would die of boredom long before a crossbow bolt took her life if she remained in one place for too long.

But regardless she would be the last to lie and say that throughout her returned life she had not come to rely upon the other's strength and knowledge during the many ventures that she had partaken in. Well skilled and powerful, possessing knowledge in both magic and swordplay, the elfin warrior was considered something unusual in the fact that he had 'died' in battle against a balrog only to be revived by the antics of the Valar in response to his skills and granted abilities similar to the Maiar themselves. She and the golden haired elf were more similar then, she supposed in the oddity of their second lives, as she too had had the misfortune of having the Valars return her to life for a sacrifice that she would much rather forget that Kagome had made millennia ago.

"Glorfindel," his name meant 'golden-haired' and was well attributed to the unusual tinge of his hair, a trait of the ancient Vanyar elves as too was his pale features. He was fair even for an elf.

Someone else would have doubtlessly scrambled at the name, maybe even fumbled themselves into a folded bow for at least what was possible from the back of their mounts in both surprise and fear of finding someone of such status coming to fill out in the middle of the night. He was both ancient and well respected amongst the elves, even if they were generations younger than himself, and as such held the position of lord, second only in power to the Lord of Imladhras himself. But she did not resign herself with a bow towards the golden haired elf as he considered her. She could read the question in almost impossibly pale blue eyes easily.

"Lle ume quel [you did well]." The golden haired warrior shifted. "Uuma dela [Don't worry]."

She wasn't going to. She had nothing to fear.

The others were a different story. They were hunted. By their own breed. Given half the chance the boy would be dead and the mother sold off to slavery. Slavers were never a gentle sort. She had seen the things that they did to those that could not pay off debt earned in desperate times, when foodstuffs ran low, and had shown the Men who had caught up with the small group with all the mercy that they showed their victims. The Rangers would deal with those that escaped. She might be human but she was not one to obey the whims of Men's laws and rules. Had they figured she had dispatched the slavers without a "fair and proper trial" there was a good chance that she would find her head rolling instead.

 _I wonder if that would kill me?_ She had had a pike pierce through her back and come out the other side, and still had enough fight in her to slash the opponent across the stomach and give him a slow death.

 ** _**Mistress.**_** The barks seemed to take "shape" in a language that few would understand but which wasn't limited to her herself. It was not elfish not orc or even Common. How did one explain it? It was canine language shaped into something more "human". As if somewhere somehow something had put a translator between the "tin cans" of their conversation. It was hard to explain at the best of times and exhausted as she was, her mind struggled to work properly.

She could feel a low whine start in her own throat, **_**Shorel [Wood/Forest].**_**

The Coo'Quessir [Elvin Dog] was wagging his tail so hard at being acknowledged that he nearly bowled over the youngster at his side. The little human had his thumb in mouth and the other hand gripping tightly at the thick wolf-like pelt of the dog whose sleek elegant head would come to her waist. He was built to the same lines as the Irish Wolfhounds that she had once seen as a child but bigger, more muscular but with the sleekness of a wolf even if he was all dog. A pair of patient liquid brown eyes starred back at her. The dog treated the boy as if he was but another of the other's numerous pups and would die to protect the boy if need be. He had not left the boy's side since five days ago when the large dog had butted his head into the sobbing youth, the child's cries of alarm having turned into giggles as he had come to understand the dog, who had squated down so that the boy could play with the large drooping ears, did not mean him harm. The youth didn't seem to mind his protector was four legged or not even human and had even taken to sleeping beside the dog during those few hours every night when rest was needed least someone fall out of their saddle.

But then something tightened painfully within her and she blinked rapidly as azure eyes considered the pudgy hand within thick fur nearly the color of snow remembering when that heavy pelt had been the color of ash streaked with contrasting shades of ochre brown and midnight black much like how "agouti" would look for a husky though the shading was one constant thing. Despite how he had run alongside Rosroch on this venture of hers with more determination than most would at half his age there was no denying that he was a tired old dog whose prime had long since disappeared. With an aching heart she knew that he didn't have much more time in this world. Age was catching up with him while years seemed to fly by unchanging for her herself. Cruel when she could remember when the dog had saved her life as if yesterday.

Strange seeing as she had met the dog by chance really when the breeder, it was accidental apparently, had thrust the growling snarling ball of nearly-black fur into her hands proclaiming that she was the young elf's last hope seeing as no one else wanted such an unruly monster. Said unruly monster had sunk his then budding teeth into her finger and not let go until he had succeeded in drawing blood. Had she not been so shocked that the little fiend had actually bitten her she might have realized his personality then for the pup had immediately begun licking the wound, ears flat and tail wagging a mile a minute. But as months passed into years and pup turned into dog, back then their association could be called cranky at best. In fact they had almost fought like cats and dogs for he would not listen to commands and she had not mastered the ability to speak "dog" despite who she had spent time with in her very distant youth. But his loyalty was true for the canid had defended her against the bandits with all the savagery of a bear. He had stood over her, frothing at the mouth and wild eyed with fury, his fur bristling from head to toe as if a porcupine with a spear in his shoulder and an arrow just having missed the vital blood veins within his throat neither injury stopping his crushing jaws from ripping into flesh whenever a foolish man thinking easy prey got too close. Nearly two centuries had passed since then.

 ** _**Tired,**_** a long tongue swept across the boy's forearm and then face when the boy whimpered, scared by the silence surrounding them and the strange man who his mother was staring at. Had she not seen elves before? **_**We sleep soon?**_**

 ** _**Tancavë [Yes/Certainly]**._** Kagome paused considering the boy as he leaned into the dog. The dog himself leaned back, if only lightly, so that they were supporting each other in an odd lean-to that caused lips to twitch. T _hough I fear for the day when you won't rise from your sleep, my friend._

Shifting her weight back around to the patient Balrag slayer Kagome, once she had gone by Higurashi but had since abandoned that name like her past, tilted her head down. "Does the Lord wish to speak with them tonight or could He wait til morn?"

She spoke Common for the benefit of the woman. Her husband, she had met once or twice, spoke Elfish but she wasn't certain if the female could do the same. She had hummed one of the more common Elfish songs two nights ago while the boy had rested and the woman had watched the shadows with fearful eyes, eventually giving way to habit and singing the lyrics, however the woman had not joined in or even given acknowledgement that she knew the song.

Pale eyes flickered and landed on the boy, who was but seconds to hitting the ground where he stood, "Tenna' telwan [Until later]."

* * *

 **NOTE:** Some dogs in Tolkien's Middle Earth are said to be capable of "speech". I tried to explain it. The "tin can" mentioning was reference to the tin can phones one would play as a child. Imagine that someone is translating the dog "language" to human "language" somewhere down the line but the translation isn't complete. As if you are a foreigner with a grasp of a language but nowhere near fluent.

 **NOTE:** Kagome says she will "never again" be a plaything for the gods. Keep that in mind, it will be important.

How she ended up in Middle Earth will also be explained probably by chapter 2 maybe 3. Or maybe I never will explain how she ended up here. Depends on the story flow.

 **NOTE:** The date is set at TA 2933 - the time that a child Aragorn, then 2 years old, was sent to Rivendell to be raised by Lord Elrond.


	2. Chapter 2

_thoughts_

_***** mental conversations *****_

**_amplified thoughts/meanings_ **

_****Different language / not "human"**** _

* * *

"Amin n'rangwa edanea [I do not understand these humans]," the words caused lips to twist with wary amusement as she considered the group of elves that stood by the gateway leading to and from this place. As it was the humans so spoken of had hurried by, guiding by a female elf dressed in the soft blue of an assistant, so quickly it was surprising that the woman hadn't picked up her son and bolted. She was as frightened as a rabbit.

Kagome on the other hand felt no such worries. Why should she? And neither should have Gilraen, the boy's mother, when Shorel had been welcomed by the elves, the warriors petting the dog's head with a sort of comfortableness that only came from companionship. Right now the white furred dog was sitting at the feet of the speaker his tail thumping a steady rhythm against the ground. She recognized the aura, the spiritual presence of the Lord of this Manor, even if he himself was dressed as the soldiers in mere satin robes the color of old earth. A hand rested comfortably upon the sword hilt that could be found on his right side. He looked far more at ease in his natural element than decked in the robes of office.

"Nae saian luume', Heruamin [It has been too long, My Lord (familiar)]."

"Arwenamin [My lady (familiar)]." Though his features did not change the eyes did, a hint of relief slipping through gray eyes, as the darkly crowned head dipped in greeting, "Tolo, mado go nin [Come and dine with me]."

It was well past the dining hour but someone would find some food, if nothing more than fruit, and the idea of having something in her belly that was not Lembas Bread was more than appealing. She knew he wanted answers and would not wait for morning. "Diola lle [Thank you]."

* * *

**TIME SKIP – Morning, Imladris [Rivendell]**

**Character Change**

Gilraen woke with a start, green eyes flashing open. It was the fact that a ceiling, a soft mauve instead of the cream of her own household, instead of the open heavens and stars that greeted her confused vision which kept her from leaping from the bed. Her mind whirled trying to figure out just what had happened. She was exhausted to an extent that she had never been before, even as the wife of a Ranger, and her mind had begun to shut down into a haze of routine sometime during the fourth day of endless travel.

But then memory started to take shape. Of the death of her husband. Of the slavers who had come into the village looking for anyone that they could take away, the absence sometimes protested not that it would matter for the upstart would merely be clubbed until death, and sell. Though her husband had defended the village itself on many occasions the others did not care. She was an unmarried woman with a child, they did not want to be responsible. She remembered Estel's crying for the boy had not understood what was happening.

She remembered the screams but a few days later, after they had left the haven of the village she had called home, when the snowy furred wolf had plunged amongst the ranks of the slavers. No dog. Though unlike any dog she had seen before for it was both slender and powerful and intelligent. It had known exactly who to go for the moment chaos had enveloped the encampment and had ripped the throat of the one-eyed scar faced leader of these slavers with all the ease of a man swatting a fly before the man had even had a chance of drawing his sword. Then the woman had appeared. She had once, on occasion, seen a female Ranger but female warriors were far and few between.

It seemed unnatural to see a woman fighting men with swords, the long blade blocking strikes aimed at her person before the short far more slimmer "knife" would flash forward and dig mercilessly into flesh and bone exposed by the attack, and yet she could not deny that she and her son owed their lives to the woman. A woman who had not introduced herself once. Rather, once the carnage was done and the surviving slavers having bolted away, the blue-eyed female had turned and barked quite literally like a dog. The wolf-dog had situated itself beside a weeping Estel, a silent bastion, as the woman had quickly explained she was an envoy of Elrond Peredhil [Half Elven] and that she was to escort them to Rivendell.

Not a word since had been spoken to her.

A soft whine tore at her and she bolted into a sitting position, her heart thudding like bird's wings against the cage of her ribs. There, sprawled across the marble-like floor, was the great white dog that had accompanied them through most of the travels. He was stretched out like a rug, head tilted up somewhat so that she could catch glimpse of one intelligent brown eye at which point the long shaggy tail thumped once against the ground. Her son was tucked between the dog's legs, arms wrapped around the thick neck and head buried into the chest as if the dog was some gigantic toy and certainly not an animal meant for hunting and tracking.

"Don't worry," the voice was soft and came from the doorway, "for someone to touch your son they would have to kill Shorel and he is no weakling despite his age."

Green eyes lifted only to meet a pair of striking blue.

Gone was the dark green on brown, and brown on green clothing that the woman had worn in the leather of a stained leather jerkin and pants replaced by a silken robe the color of new sky and so the pale cornflower blue only served in lightening the lapis lazuli to a sort of ocean azure. There were hints of cyan within the gaze and splinters of amber. The bluish black hair had been pulled away from the other's face, highlighting sharp cheekbones and a full mouth, and braided into a ponytail that was draped over right shoulder so that the tail brushed the upper half of the breast. A simple gold necklace wound its way around the woman's neck crowned with a spherical globe at the bottom that would be the size of a small fist.

As the daughter of the former village head, Gilraen felt both terribly exposed and underdressed. "My lady…"

"Don't," a hand raised to amplify the command, "please. Titles are not needed."

"But," certainly the woman had some authority. The horse alone would have cost her husband more than a few years of pay to even consider affording. "I must know who it is that saved my life and that of my child."

A black eyebrow rose and Gilraen caught the ghost of a grin crossing the other's lips, "I am afraid that if I told you my name you would bolt like a startled deer as you did last night past the Lord of the Manor."

Lord of the Manor? Which one of the elves that had come to greet the little group at the gateway which appeared to lead into the haven of Rivendell had been Lord Elrond? Gilraen felt heat flush her skin. "I… I am terribly sorry."

"Don't be," a soft laugh escaped as features twisted into a genuine grin. "Peredhil has a presence that is sometimes too much for even lords and ladies of Men to stand."

In her limited understanding of elfin customs, she knew that Peredhil it was an insult to the Lord Elrond's halfblooded heritage. But the way this woman spoke it, it almost sounded like a nickname given between friends.

"But your name?" Was it her insistence or the worry on Gilraen's face as she sat in bed. She would normally be up and about by now but her body seemed to refuse her mind's commands she was so tired.

"I once went by another name but most call me Kagome Aear-Wen [Sea Maiden]." The name held no meaning to Gilraen. She didn't even know if the first part was Man or Elfish or some other language entirely.

Another tail thump and it dragged Gilraen's eyes to her son as he stirred, one hand wiping at sleepy eyes as the other stayed knotted in the dog's fur. She didn't realize the sound had caught the other woman's attention until the other's soft bell-like voice rang out. "How old is he?"

"Two."

"Two." The woman shook her head. "I have spent too much time amongst the Elves then if I can't guess the age of a Man. Young elves grow like weeds until they are two hundred years or 'teenagers'."

Gilraen paused as she considered the other. She looked like a Man but there was something too clean-cut and elegant about the features. A gracefulness to even the slightest movement. If she didn't know any better she would say that this one came from a long line of nobility. "Are you not elfin?"

There was another laugh, "no. I am like you, entirely of the race of Man. I just age much slower than a mortal should."

* * *

**FLASHBACK**

"Listen carefully Gilraen," her husband, Arathorn II, touched her shoulder to gauge her attention.

"Yes my husband?"

"If anything should happen to me, I wish that you would take Estel and go to Rivendell. It is guarded by the elfin Lord Elrond, the brother of my forefather." A pause as this information sunk in.

But then fear gripped her heart. She did not understand the elfish tongue despite Arathorn's attempts to teach her. "Are they all elfish?"

A hearty laugh and she was suddenly pulled into her husband's arms. "No, my love, there are some humans there. Rivendell is a safe haven for wary travellers."

"That is good," her body relaxed as she breathed in her husband's scent. He always smelt of the forest and wood fire.

The hug tightened, "one human will stick out though whenever she returns to Rivendell for she travels a lot. You will recognize her for she is a blue eyed thing who hasn't aged since I was taken to Rivendell as but a young tot barely older than Estel himself."

Her husband was nearing his forties. "How is that possible?"

"The Hiril Rochben En Imladris is gifted by the Ainur some say."

**END FLASHBACK**

* * *

Breathe caught in her throat. She was having a conversation with a woman who had been gifted by the gods themselves.

* * *

 **NOTE:** Lembas Bread - Appearing in The Lord of the Rings and Silmarillion material, lembas is a special bread made by the Elves, also called waybread in the Common Speech. Shaped into thin cakes, it is very nutritious, stays fresh for months when kept unbroken in its original leaf-wrappings, and is used for sustenance on long journeys. Essentially hardtack.

Hiril Rochben En Imladris [Lady Knight of Rivendell]

 **NOTE:** Ainur - The Ainur are the immortal spirits existing before Creation in J. R. R. Tolkien's fictional universe. These were the first beings made of the thought of Eru Ilúvatar. Like with old religions these can be considered lesser gods.

Aear-Wen [Sea Maiden] – the surname that Kagome introduces herself with, will be important.


End file.
